His
by fairmaidofkent
Summary: Prompt .031


"Mine!"

A furious eleven-month-old Lucius Malfoy seized the shining silver rattle from the elf that had pried the thing from his fingers in an attempt to feed him. The child stared at the creature with a stubborn sort of outrage, and promptly whacked it over top of its head.

"Bad," he stated emphatically, shaking the toy in a childishly superior manner. "Mine," he repeated in explanation. The elf stared at the boy, not yet a toddler, with an expression akin to shock. Lucius held the toy in both of his chubby hands, eyes falling upon the food that Fiddy had been trying to administer. Straightening his little spine, he opened his mouth and waited patiently.

* * *

"That's mine, give it back!" bellowed the six-year-old blonde, sprinting across the grounds of the Malfoy Manor after his dreadful cousin, Cepheus Burke. The boy, older by three years, dashed along on much lengthier legs, laughing raucously. Above his held, he clutched Lucius's Cleansweep Four tightly, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk.

"Can't catch me!" he sang in the obnoxious tone that only truly spoiled children are able to manage. Lucius skidded to a halt, chest rising and falling rapidly. His fingers trembled with anger, and he glared at Cepheus with unveiled animosity.

"Stop!" he shouted forcefully. Much to his surprise, the other boy froze midstep, stood suspended for a moment, and then crashed to the grassy ground. Lucius stolled over, quite composed now, and plucked the broomstick from his cousin's frozen fingers.

"That's mine," he announced calmly, though his gray eyes were still malevolent. Cepheus gawked up at him, though his facial muscles were frozen in a misplaced grin. Squaring his shoulders in a dignified manner, he turned on one heel and marched off.

* * *

"You fool, get up, that seat belongs to me," Lucius snarled, leveling the first year girl with an icy glare. As a second year student, he claimed seniority over all younger Slytherins- this slip of a girl was no exception. She stared back up at him unblinkingly.

"I don't see your name on it." The tart, childish reply had little effect on him.

"It's mine," he repeated, crossing his arms over his chest, which had begun to broaden thanks to his hours spent training for Quidditch. She, on the other hand, was far too skinny. Her boney elbows and knobby knees were apparent even through the neatly tailored robes she wore.

The girls rose slowly, blue eyes flashing. "What's you're name?" she demanded unexpectedly.

"Lucius Malfoy. What's yours?"

"Narcissa Black," she replied imperiously. "And I don't like you very much, Lucius Malfoy." With that, she flounced away.

Lucius supposed he should feel victorious, but there was a strangely defeated feeling in the pit of his stomach as he sank into the armchair.

* * *

"It's mine," a third year Lucius announced smugly. "Do you like it?"

Eyes glazed with boredom, Narcissa Black stared across the table at the Nimbus 1000 Lucius was proudly displaying. He noticed that while his other housemates squealed with envy, she turned away for another serving of pumpkin juice.

_Stupid girl._ She was horribly vain, and he didn't think the passing summer had much improved her gangly looks, either; she was still quite skinny; taller, though. Not nearly as attrative, he assured himself, as the fourth year girl who clung eagerly to his shoulder, admiring his new broom. Certainly not.

* * *

"What do you think you're doing?"

The deep voice startled Narcissa, but the large hand that slammed the cover of the book she'd been reading shut cause her to gasp in alarm, not in small part due to the fact that her slim, white fingers remained within the pages.

"Ouch, Malfoy, stop it!"

"That's mine. That book was a gift from my father and I did not give you permission to read it." Lucius attempted to hide his irritation, but knew she could see his tension.

"It's just a book-"

He snatched it back. "How did you get this?"

"You left it lying in the middle of the common room, you prat."

"Did I?" he tapped the cover ominously. "Do you know what this book is about, Miss Black?"

She narrowed her eyes, hating his arrogant attitude. She always had, but he was in his fifth year now, and a prefect. Although Narcissa would have previously guessed it impossible, his ego seemed to have inflated.

"Judging by that title emblazoned across the front, _Seventeenth Century Curses and Counter Curses_, I'd be willing to guess it's about seventeenth century curses and countercurses. But I've been wrong before."

"There's some terribly nasty material in here; nothing you'd want to fill that pretty little head of yours with."

"You think I'm pretty?" she challenged, pouncing on the omission.

"No, I think you're stupid. Now scurry off and read about hair charms or something- you're looking a bit frizzy."

Her hair was not, in fact, frizzy at all. It was perfect, it always was. And Lucius was not entirely sure what stopped him from informing her that he not only found her pretty, but beautiful, and had since the first day of his fourth year when she'd stepped onto the train and smiled broadly at him, momentarily causing his heart to stop. He'd realized a second later that she had actually been smiling at a friend of hers, who happened to be standing just beyond his left shoulder. It hadn't mattered though,and from that day on, he'd vowed to make her grin like that again. He wanted to see her eyes light up when he walked in the room, wanted those perfect lips to curl up at the corner when he said her name.

"I really do hate you," she snapped, rising abruptly and hurrying from the room. Lucius sighed, and fliped the tome over in his hand. He had not lied about why he didn't want her reading it, though- he hated the idea of those sparkling blue eyes falling upon some of the gruesome curses transcribed with its pages. It was not at all something a proper fourteen year old like the lovely Narcissa Black should be reading.

* * *

It was only a year later that he found her in the dungeons, bleeding scarlet onto the stone floors. He was performing his late night rounds as required of prefects, and had come by the deserted chamber only because it was a popular place for miscreants to be snogging at such a late hour.

"Narcissa!" he rushed over and dropped to his knees beside her curled figure.

"Oh, Malfoy," she moaned, ducking her head. "Go away."

Ignoring the weak command, he scooped her up and eased her into a sitting position. She waved him aside feebly, but he refused budge. Finding that she could not sit unsupported, he himself sat down and rested her back against his chest, easing her hips between his thighs. It was far too intimate a position, but she didn't seem to notice as she slumped back against him.

"What happened to you?" he demanded, searching methodically for the cause of her pain.

"Oh, ouch... let me go." He noticed that as she spoke, she curled her hands to her chest, and took her elbows firmly in his grasp.

"Show me." His voice permitted no dispute, and she regretfully extended her arms. Lucius frowned; even in the darkness, he could see that there were blackened streaks running from her wrists up her soft limbs. In the center of the burns, all flesh seemed to have charred away- the raw, exposed sores were undoubtedly the source of all the blood.

"You foolish girl," he murmured softly, reaching into the pocket of his robes. His long fingers curled around a glass vial, and he uncorked the potion carefully. "Here, this should help."

He dabbed the greenish liquid on her skin, and she gave a small mew of relief. "What is that, Malfoy? Where did you get it?"

"It's mine. I wasn't born yesterday, Black, and I know what those burns are from."

Immediately, Narcissa tensed and sprang away, scrambling to her feet.

"No you don't. They could be from anything."

Lucius rose slowly, eyes fixed on hers firmly. "Those are from Dark magic, sweetheart, and if you don't tell me exactly what it was you were doing here-"

"You'll what?" she snapped. "Tell Slughorn? Dumbledore? And how will you explain that you had the antidote in your pocket?"

"I wasn't going to tell anyone," he said softly. "Don't you know you're never supposed to practice these kinds of spells alone? You could hurt yourself- much more seriously than a couple burns from backlash."

She turned away abruptly, and walked over to the desk where her bag sat. Narcissa withdrew a quill and began nervously shredding the feather. "I just wanted to try some spells I read about in a book," she muttered.

"What book?" His voice was suspicious as he followed her across the the dungeon.

"Oh, I don't know. Something Bella gave me."

"Liar. I know your sister; she wouldn't give you a book with that sort of curse in it. She wouldn't put you at that risk."

Narcissa whirled around, eyes flashing. "You're right. It's always 'Cissy don't do this, you could get hurt,' or 'Cissy don't do that, it's dangerous,' or 'Cissy, be careful or you'll break a nail!'" she cried, throwing her hands up in exasperation and showering them both with bits of feather. Lucius did not blink as he regarded her.

"If you won't take her advice, take mine: keep yourself safe."

Without waiting for her reply, he strode from the room.

* * *

_I think, _Lucius mused as he pushed Narcissa gently against the wall of the Quidditch locker room, _my final year at Hogwarts has been my favorite._

His hands stole between the gap in her already loose robe, and she gave a breathy laugh. "Good game, Malfoy," she purred in his ear, nipping at the lobe. He hummed in approval as she lavished kisses along his neck and jaw, already finding the buttons of her blouse.

"Not so fast," she threw him a playful grin. "I have to go give all the other players their congratulations, too. I believe in equal oppurtunity."

Lucius growled, and pressed his lips to her once, fiercely. "No, Narcissa. You're _mine." _To prove his point, he slid his tongue into her mouth and tipped his hips suggestively against her stomach. She laughed again, using his shoulders to lift herself and wrap her legs around his waist.

"Avery flew pretty well today."

"Mine, Narcissa. You're mine."


End file.
